Reign: The White-Light Descendants
by CherishedLuv05
Summary: In a post Hogwarts AU, the Ministry has fallen and the Order of the Phoenix has been hunted to near extinction. After months of being hidden away in a desolate safe house the trio learn of a secret that has been erased from the memory of The Wizarding World for over 100 years that could bring peace and balance to the World - The long lost Royal family, the descendants of Merlin.
1. Chapter 1

November 1, 1886

Branwen Chruse woke to a room filled with darkness; she wasn't sure what had stirred her from her slumber. She laid there quietly for a moment exulting in the feeling of her chest rising and falling with every slow deep breath she took. She reached over for the warmth of husband's body, but found the spot next to her empty with the covers thrown back.

'That's odd,' she thought to herself.

From her window she could see in the distance a flashing red light; she slowly pulled herself up from the soft warm bed and placed her feet steadily on the marble floor. The shock of the cool marble on her bare feet made her dash to the comfort of the elaborate floral woven rug that had been made by her father-in-laws grandmother. She took a few paces towards the window and cocked her head to the side as she tried to register through her sleepy mind what she was seeing. It looked like a figure standing outside in the far distance emitting red sparks from his wand. She rubbed her eyes slowly and another dark shadowy figure was standing on one of the turrets of the castle in the distance, his arm extended into the air, wand in hand radiating red sparks. A bright flash of green light from another room across the courtyard caught her eye. It was the King's bedroom. She brushed her long blonde hair out of her face suddenly came to her senses and realized what was happening. The castle was under attack! The green light she had just witnessed was the Killing Curse; somebody had just murdered the King!

Branwen let out a scream and ran back to her bed and grabbed her wand from under her pillow. Thunderous footsteps echoed down the hallway towards her bedroom door. Branwen could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest; she held her wand out prepared to take on anyone who dare attack her. The door burst open and a small figure of a plump woman with her hair pulled back under a white sleeping cap slipped her way in.

Branwen lowered her wand. "Maggie!" she sighed with relief.

Maggie's face was flushed and anxiety was smeared across her face. "My lady! My lady!" she wailed. "The castle is under attack!"

"My god," Branwen sighed, her hand slapping against her chest as if trying to steady her speeding heart.

The distant sound of glass shattering caused both of them to jut their heads towards the window. The dark mark was now hanging over the Kings Bedroom window. Screaming, and loud bangs could now be heard coming from all parts to castle with the realization the old King's death.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Branwen made the realization that with the King's death, her husband was now King, and she was his Queen. A tug on her hand brought her back to reality. "My lady," Maggie hissed.

"The children!" Branwen said, "We need to get to the children."

Maggie, still holding her Mistresses hand rushed them over to the secret door hidden behind a curtain and pressed her wand against and muttered the magic words under her breath. The door creaked open presenting a dark stairwell.

"Lumos," Branwen whispered. Her wand glowed with a bright light as she darted up the stairs; with Maggie bring up the rear with her wand wielded tightly in her hand.

When they reached the top of the staircase Branwen could hear the sound of her sons cries through the thick wooden door, she tapped it lightly with her wand and it creaked open. The first thing she saw was the body of her children's nursemaid lying dead on the floor with a vacant look and eyes wide with shock. A death eater robed in black was lurking over her son's small bed. The little boys' eyes were streaming with tears down his pale, frightened face.

"Stupefy!" Maggie cried out, hitting the death eater square in the back.

Branwen ran right over to her son's bed and scooped him up in her arms. "Darling!" she whispered in his ear. "You're safe now, mummy is here."

"Mummmmy, what is it?" he sobbed into the crease of her neck.

Branwen swallowed the tears for the pity she felt for her two year old son who was too young to understand the destruction around him. She rushed over to the other small crib in the corner of her room to find her young daughter still sleeping soundly. "Maggie, could you?" she said nodding in the direction of her small daughter.

Maggie finished wiping the unconscious attackers memory and went over to the crib to gently lift the little girl and hold her tightly to her breast. "Madame, I have arranged an escape for your children," she spoke calmly. "My brother is waiting in the attic. He has a broom and has agreed to fly them to safety."

Branwen sighed. "Bless you dear friend". She put her son down close to Maggie and walked across the room and pulled a white sheet off her sons' bed and tied it in a circle with a big knot at the end. She slid it over her head with one side resting on her shoulder, angled over her breast with the knot sitting snugly under her other arm. "Come, bring me Riannon," she instructed. "So we may carry her easily."

Maggie did as her Mistress instructed - placing the baby in the quickly-crafted sling.

Branwen looked down at her son lovingly. "Can you be a big brave boy for me?" she asked, taking in his sweet blue eyes, pale tear streaked face, and his blonde hair that was exactly as her own.

"Yes mummy," he replied obediently.

"Good," she smiled as sweetly as she could. "Now Lyle, I need you to stay very close to Maggie, there are some bad men in the castle and we don't want you to get hurt. Can you do that for me?"

"I tink so," Lyle nodded, not truly understanding what he was agreeing to.

"That's my good boy," she whispered, reaching down to touch her sons' cheek affectionately.

"Come my Prince," Maggie took Lyle by the hand and quietly stepped over to the doors that lead into a main corridor. She leaned down and held her index finger over her lips, "Shhh". She whispered to Lyle.

Lyle looked back up at her and repeated the same motion.

Wand brazened before her Branwen opened the door and peered out into the wide corridor. The body of two guards who were posted to guard the nursery on night duty lay dead at her feet. One flat on his back with the same look that the nursemaid had on her face, the other lying face down with his right arm almost severed off – a pool of blood streaming away from his lifeless corpse. The coast was clear there didn't appear to be anyone in this part of the corridor. "Let's go," she whispered.

"Look up!," Maggie whispered, trying to distract Lyle from seeing the grotesque bodies that lay outside his nursery door.

Branwen crossed the hall and leaned against the oak wall with gold trimming. She took a moment to calculate the route they would have to take to reach the attic. All they had to do was make it two doors down, go up a large flight of stairs, down a large hallway, into the King's private dining hall to a secret stair way that would take them up to the highest level and from there straight to the attic. The distant sound of dueling could be heard from a not too distant room. _A scream…a low rumble._ She started to walk slowly towards the staircase that would take them up to the next level.

When they reached the stair case they ran up as quickly and as quietly as they could. The purple cloth that covered the stairs was covered in burn marks and what appeared to be drops of blood. An unrecognizable man dressed in black lay dead at the top of the stairs. The upstairs corridor was covered in smoke. Dark burn marks blackened the oak walls where curses had missed their intended targets. The flashes of curses flying about in open rooms cast colorful shadows on the walls. A green light followed by a thud echoed out of a room they just rushed by, somebody was dead. A man turning from a crossroad in the corridor crossed their path, he began firing curses at them.

"Protego!" Maggie shouted.

The curse reflected and hit the wall, leaving another burn mark and the fine oak.

"Avada Kedavra!" the aiming cried, aiming a curse at Maggie and Lyle.

The curse was deflected by Branwen, repelling back into the mans face. He fell back with an expressionless face with the same 'thud' they had heard only moments ago.

They ran as fast as they could down the long hallway firing curses at the evil men who were now following them. The jostling of the handmade sling finally woke the sleeping Princess, and she began to cry.

"Shhh, Riannon," Branwen hushed into sling.

Maggie glanced fearfully at Branwen. "My lady, we must hurry."

There appeared to be no more enemies in the corridor leading to the King's private dining room. Branwen nodded absentmindedly and was suddenly aware of the icy November chill that hung in the corridor, mixed with the stale stench of death. Her daughters cries were coming to a hush and she held the sling closer to her body.

The look on Lyle's face was a mixture of outright terror, exhaustion, and curiosity. Branwen's heart ached for his ignorance of the situation, but also envied him. Her own heart was beating so rapidly in her chest she was surprised that Maggie couldn't hear it. She feared for the life of her children, and her thoughts lay heavily on the whereabouts of her missing husband. Where was Rhys? Was he alive or dead? Was he a hero somewhere in another part of the castle?

A roar of voices poured in from the lower level that they had just escaped from, it was a deep cry that was filled with determination and hate. Branwen was filled with dread. Tears were on the verge of stinging her eyes. "Why Maggie?" she whined. "Why are they doing this and what have we done to deserve this?"

Maggie sighed and moved closer to her mistress, crushing Prince Lyle between the skirts of their night gowns. "Branwen," she hadn't spoken so formally to her since she was a child. "I have taken care of you my whole life. I love you like the child I was never able to have. We have done nothing to deserve this, but it's common knowledge that a lot of the Wizarding world wants to abolish us, especially the supporters of the dark arts, they think they have no use for us any longer."

"The people have no idea!" Branwen hissed. "Without us there would be nothing left."

Maggie raised a finger over her mistresses' lips to shush her. "I know" she whispered. "But they do not understand and we cannot blame them for their ignorance. It is a secret the Royal family has had to keep for over 1500 years."

"Maggie!"

"My lady…I cannot say how we shall fair tonight." She replied. "But the blood of Merlin runs through the veins of these children, and I promise you that with everything I am that we shall save them, and as long as they survive there will be a future." The sound of the angry voices began to grow closer. "We must reach the attic before they catch up with us. Come."

Branwen nodded swiftly, and allowed her most loyal and trusted servant to pull her along the corridor to the stairs that's lead up to the Kings private dining room. The staircase was wide and intimidating, with purple velvet carpeting leading up to the beautifully crafted oak door that bore the floral crest of the royal family. Tonight, the scene was different from the beauty that usually regaled the Winter Palace that was known as Rodgavl – the door at the top of the stairs was hanging ajar by one hinge. Maggie released her lady's hand and quietly dashed up the steps and peered inside with her wand wielded tightly in her hands.

"Nothing, ´ Maggie murmured. "Come, my lady."

The door squeaked lightly as it was pulled open to make room for the three figures to slip through. The dining room was a magnificent with a grand white marble table draped in elegant red silk. Three gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a large fireplace trimmed in gold sat at the top of the room right behind what would be the Kings dining chair. Burn marks tainted the portraits that hung from the high walls.

"My lady, watch your step," Maggie cautioned, pointing out the drops of blood that were smeared on the floor.

Branwen cradled her daughter tightly into her breast with her right arm, and used her left hand to lift the hem of her night skirts to side step the droplets of blood. As they rounded the length of the vast table the droplets became heavier, and revealed a ghastly sight.

Branwen screamed, her heart breaking, unable to take in the sight before her. Riannon reacted and let out a cry that matched her mothers. Maggie gasped and pushed Lyle into her skirts to save him from seeing the terrible scene that lay bloody on the ground. She took the screaming infant from her mistress and rushed to open the secret door.

"Be quick," Maggie said as she disappeared behind the oak panel. "We can't wait."

Branwen didn't respond but just stared at the body of her husband on the ground. The ice in her eyes melted as hot tears spilled down her pale cheeks. She dropped to her knees, ignoring the blood that oozed from a wound in his leg, and ran her hands through his brown curls – his grey eyes staring up in the shock of death. "Rhys! My poor husband. My King!" she sobbed sinking forward into his chest. "Why?" She took a moment to take in his familiar and took his hand in her own, it was still warm. She rose back up, resting her weight on the back of her heels. Loud, angry cries caught her attention, and she turned towards the door. The smell of smoke filled her nostrils, somewhere close the wing was on fire. Branwen turned her attention back to her husband and raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. "I'll be with you soon," she whispered as she closed his eyes for the last time.

A few moments later Branwen reached the attic where she found Maggie standing by a large open window with a man clutching a broom.

"My lady," Maggie said. "This is my youngest brother Ralph.

Ralph was a tall man in his mid-forties with blonde-grey hair with a matching fuzzy beard. His blue eyes were kind, but filled with sadness. "Your highness," he bowed deeply. "I am at your service."

Branwen stepped forward and grasped his hand formally. "Can you truly guarantee me the safety of my children?" she asked.

Ralph was taken aback by the informal gesture, but stood straight and looked the worried mother firmly in the eye. "Yes, ma'am," he said. "I vow I will protect them with my life."

Branwen smiled weakly and released his hand, and looked at Maggie.

"My lady, my brother lives in England with his wife and they are very trustworthy people," she said. "He will bring the children to Albus Dumbledore, who will care for them and assure their safety."

"I have met this Dumbledore a few times, he was a very close friend to my late King," Branwen replied. "He's a good man."

"The very best," Ralph agreed.

The small pieces of Branwen's already broken heart were beginning to break into even smaller pieces knowing that in only moments she would be giving up her children for good and she would most likely never seem them again. The hot tears began to sting her eyes again. It was frightening that only hours ago they had gone to bed as a complete happy family, and now she was a widow sending her young children into the night with a stranger and by dawn they would most likely be orphans. She looked at this strange man. "Thank you sir," she said. "I will never be able to repay for this favour."

Ralph smiled subtly. "It is my honour, my lady!"

Branwen pulled the make-shift sling off from around her shoulders and handed it to the man, then carefully took Riannon from Maggie and held her closely in her arms. "Goodbye my beautiful Princess," the heavy tears began to flow. "Know I love you so much!" She kissed her and handed her to Ralph who slid her gently in the sling that hung around his neck.

"Mama, where are we going?" Lyle asked.

It took Branwen all her energy to force a smile, and even then she knew it must not have been very convincing to her son. "You are going on a big adventure."

"Where?"

"A place called England!"

"Whats Engwund?" he asked.

Branwen paused she wasn't sure how to answer him.

Fortunately Ralph stepped forward. "England is a magical place far away, with lots to see and do," he said.

"Okay!"

Branwen sighed, relieved that this satisfied her sons curiosity. "Lyle, I want you to always remember that I love you so much, always and forever. And you are King now, so I need to you be brave and strong and always look after your little sissy, she needs you now. Can you do this for me?"

"Yes, mama!" he leaped into her arms.

"You such a brave boy, my little King," she whispered into his ear. "I love you so much!"

"I love you too mama.'

Ralph positioned himself on the broom ready to take off through the open window. Branwen lifted her son onto the broom and fastened him in tight with a rope around Ralph's waist. "Hold on tight!" she said.

Lyle flashed her a big brave smile, and the last remains of her heart died knowing she would never see it again.

"Bye darlings," she choked.

Ralph gave a quick nod of farewell and kicked off from the window into the air. The moment they left Branwen let out all the tears she held in trying to be brave for her son. "Oh god Maggie," she gasped.

Maggie wiped away her own tears and clutched her mistress close to her patting her back in comfort. No words needed to be spoken. The roar of an angry mob could be heard a few floors below, and the smell of smoke began to fill the attic. They were outnumbered and trapped. By the first rays of dawn they would both be dead.


	2. Chapter 2

April 4th, 2000

Over 100 years later a small white four bedroom bungalow sat on a lonely hill covered in protective enchantments. Inside Hermione Granger was slicing burnt meatloaf onto three different plates, and she cursed herself for her horrible cooking skills. She scooped some peas onto the plates and used her wand to levitate them into the small shabby dining room. "It's ready!" she cried out.

The floor creaked as two hungry men came around the corner and took their seats around the small table. "Smells almost better than last time, Mione," Harry Potter smirked.

"Sod off," she snapped. She wasn't in the mood to be provoked at the moment. "The oven is temperamental. Ron, can you grab the drinks?"

Ron got up from his seat and slid past Hermione to slip into the kitchen, his 6'2 form towered over her small 5'6 frame. He got a whiff of her papaya scented hair as he whisked by her.

"Sorry," Harry said with a faint smile as he began to cut his meat.

Ron carefully placed the cold drinks on the table and took his seat in between his two best friends. "Thank you Hermione," he said kindly.

The three best friends had been living in this safe house for over six months - hiding from Voldemort and his death eaters. The war had been raging on for over two years, and the dark side was gaining more ground every day. The remaining survivors of The Order had been forced into hiding, and only came out of hiding for appointments and emergency meetings. The time they had to wait between meetings was gruelling and filled with boredom.

Hermione had used to her superb skills as a witch to charm the old TV in the sitting room to play five fuzzy channels. The boys spent most of their spare time sitting on the couch getting caught up in old TV shows. Hermione usually sat alone in the fourth bedroom which she had turned into a small library, reading over her books trying to find something that could help them defeat Voldemort, but there was nothing. What they needed were more people to join the Order – so many of the members had been murdered. And the majority of the willing public laid low out of fear for their own lives. The times they were living in were dark and bleak, with little hope for a positive future.

As they finished their meal, Hermione moved into the sitting room and stared out into the golden light of twilight. The trees were just beginning to bloom, and the yellow grass was just starting to show hints of green again. It had been a long desolate winter.

The sound of dishes clanging together in sink gave her a small feeling of comfort. Even though it had been difficult to get through the last few months, she knew she never would have made it if it were not for who two best friends.

"Hermione," Harry called from the kitchen. "Tea?"

She sighed. "Yes please."

A moment later Harry entered the sitting room, bearing to two mugs in his hands, "Here you go," he smiled.

"Thank you," she replied.

Harry plopped down on the sofa next to her, his leg pressed up against hers. He could feel the warmth of her body through his jeans. Hermione unconsciously snuggled up closer to him.

Ron came in from the kitchen with his own mug in his hand and sat in the armchair across from them. "Shall we find something to watch on TV?" he asked.

Harry and Hermione murmured in agreement as they settled in to watch a fuzzy game show on the screen.

The next morning Harry was the first to wake. He blinked his eyes open filtering the white morning light that filled his small room. He rolled over and looked at the clock on the bedside table which read 7:17 AM. It was obvious the others wouldn't be awake for at least an hour or so.

The room that Harry called his bedroom for the last six months was anything but comfortable. It was a small room with a single bed frame with a night stand beside it and an ancient oak dresser with broken handles in the corner. The walls were painted white except for a portion of the north wall which was painted yellow in an awkward fashion. Harry would often lay in bed staring at the awkward paint job making up scenarios in his head of why the painter never finished his job. It was thinking about simple things that kept him sane.

Harry yawned and debated going back to sleep but sleep hadn't been his friend in a long time. He was sure the purple bags under his eyes were now permanent. Harry tossed his head back on the pillow and sighed while rubbing his eyes. The thought of waking up to face the day was a tedious task. Six months cooped up this hell hole they called a safe house had been the lowest point of Harry's life. The house was filled with the thick tension of death and desperation. He was haunted by the ghosts of all those who had died at the hand of dark forces. The weight of the world crushed down upon his shoulders to the point his chest hurt and he could barely catch his breath. All while waiting – waiting for the fall of the Order, or the summons to help the Phoenix rise.

Harry threw the covers off his legs and sat up placing his feet on the warped timber floor. He caught his blurry reflection in the small mirror on the wall as he reached for his glasses and placed them on his nose. He walked out of his bedroom and into the opening of the common quarters. He stopped in his tracks – surprised when he found Hermione sitting at the breakfast table with half a dozen books opened before her.

Harry dropped his shoulders and let out a heavy breath. "Hermione, have you even slept?" Harry asked, approaching her slowly.

Hermione raised her head from her books to meet his gaze. From the look of her heavy eyes and pale complexion he assumed not.

"A little," she said softly.

Harry furrowed his eye brows. "How long have you been out here?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Probably since 2am, maybe earlier."

Harry came to stand behind her staring down upon the crown of her head and all her books splayed out before her. "Hermiiionee," Harry groaned. "You shouldn't be doing this you need to rest. Go to bed."

Hermione gave a sarcastic snicker. "We have thousands of good people out there fighting every day for their lives and the lives of their family. The least I can do is sacrifice a little sleep while I'm imprisoned in this drafty house for the greater good."

Harry placed his hand on her should. "Hermione please don't do this to yourself," he begged. "You've tried so hard, there is nothing in those books that can help us. You've looked more times than I can count. Please go and get a few hours of sleep."

"No!"

"Herm—".

"Harry!" she said almost frantically. "There has to be something. I can't just sit here anymore I have to do something. I can't…I have to try.'

Harry resigned his feat. He understood what his dear friend was feeling. The emotion of being useless in such a dramatic time was almost unbearable. Yet at the same time this girl that he had grown up with and had become his family was wasting away in front of him. Even though they ate well enough Hermione was become fragilely become thin and pale. Every night she barely picked at her dinner, sometimes Harry could hear her being sick in the bathroom. And sleep hadn't been her friend either.

"Have you at least eaten anything?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head no. "And I don't want anything thank you very much."

"I never offered…" he hushed out.

Hermione glared up at him irritably. "Did you come out here this early just to annoy me?" she asked. "Because I am not in the mood…I have a lot to get done."

Harry pulled an extra chair from under the table and sat down beside her. "I get it," he told her feeling her pain. "This sucks! But I am just trying to look out for you."

Hermione sighed and met Harry's gaze. "I know," she said solemnly. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm just PMSing or something."

Harry shook his head. "I think you're just overwhelmed, over tired, and hungry,"

Hermione nodded slowly. "You're probably right.'

"Now, can I get you a little something for breakfast while you tell me about any new information you may have dug up throughout the night?"

Hermione nodded again. She really didn't know what she would have done without having Harry and Ron with her during this whole ordeal.

Harry rose from his chair and meandered into the small kitchen and began ruffling through the fridge and the cupboards trying to assemble a small breakfast for he and his best friend. "So tell me?" He asked.

"The frustrating part is that I haven't really discovered anything new," she said skimming through all her books. "Except that did you know there is a certain of rose out there that when you add its petals to brew you can make a strong rejuvenation draft?"

"That's cool," Harry said.

"But not useful," Hermione added.

Harry nodded in agreement. He knew there would be no more important information that Hermione's books could provide them. When they were notified they would be immediately portkeyed to a safe house to keep Harry out of harms way until there was a need for him Hermione was only able to bring along with her the few books she had in her trunk.

"But have you ever heard of the Royal family?" she asked him.

"The muggle one?"

Hermione shook her head and turned her body in the chair to face Harry who was still in the kitchen. "No, the ancient Royal Family of the magical world," She said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "The magical world doesn't have a Royal Family."

"Apparently it does, or did a long time ago" Hermione said firmly. "I was reading about that rose in a potion book and then cross referenced it to that vintage ancient Herbology book that Ron got from Neville for his birthday a year or two ago."

"And what does that say?" Harry asked as he placed a small cup of coffee and a plate with half a piece of toast with half a peach in front of Hermione.

"Thank you," she said as she reached for her coffee. " It says that the Esydrian Rose grows in the moonlight in the gardens of the realm of Esydra. The summer home of the King of the Magical World."

"Where is Esydra?" Harry asked.

"I have no idea, I can't find any mention of it or this alleged Royal Family in any other of my books," she said. "There is only one other mention of it in this old book, and again they don't mention where or what the realm of Esydra is just that again a certain herb only grows in this certain place.

Harry ate his breakfast with a puzzled look on his face. "Why have I never heard of magical Royalty before?"

Hermione looked just as puzzled as he was. "I have no idea," Hermione shrugged. "There is nothing about them in any book I have read or anything I learned at Hogwarts. I find this very intriguing."

"Indeed," Harry agreed.

"I wish we could owl somebody about this," Hermione said as she stifled a yawn. "Or request more books."

"Where did you get that book from?" he asked

"McGonagall, last year," she sighed

"Hmmm," Harry swallowed a bit of his toast. "One day Hermione we will be released from this place and be able to have contact with the outside world again," Harry said. "And you can read all the books you want."

Hermione glanced towards the window outside and could see the sun just beginning to rise. It looked like it was going to be another beautiful spring day that the three of them wouldn't be able to enjoy. "I hope you're right Harry," she sighed helplessly.

A few days later Ron and Hermione were sitting in the spare bedroom that Hermione had turned into a makeshift library. Inside, the room was small with only one window frame that looked onto the backyard. A small writing desk was pushed up against the wall and two book shelves stood like twins in the corner holding only a dozen or so of the books they had been able to bring with them. Large pieces of parchment were charmed to the wall, lots of them were notes written by Hermione, diagrams, and maps.

Hermione was sitting on the small bench reading a book as Ron sat at the writing desk playing a muggle card game that Harry taught him to pass the time.

Ron knew his friends were having a hard time dealing with the fact they were cooped up in the house. It had been months since any of them had felt the fresh breeze or the cool rain on their face. At times the tension between the three of them was thick, which could lead to outbursts and small arguments. Most of the outbursts came from Harry or Hermione. For some reason it was Ron who was the strongest of the three, he admitted he had a few frustrating moments and a few times at night where he would feel warm tears start to burn his eyes has he drifted off to sleep at the thought of his friends and family that he had no word of. He didn't know if they were alive or if they were dead.

But overall it was Ron who was mostly able to maintain his temper and stay calm while being shut away in this tiny house. When he found he was starting to feel overwhelmed he would stop and take a deep breath and just tell himself how blessed he and his friends were, first off they were alive, had a roof over their head, a warm bed to sleep in, and food to eat. There were many people out there that they loved that didn't have that same privilege.

Ron heard Hermione slide off the bed with a book in her hand and stomp over to the desk behind Ron and lean over to reference some of her notes that were charmed to the wall. She groaned and Ron heard the sound of her toss her book against the wall. "It's useless!" she cried.

"Hermione!" Ron cried.

She walked over to pick up the book and smoothed out the pages. She gave the book a sympathetic rub and placed it back on the book shelf. "I can't find any more information." She said. "Are you sure you don't know anything about this Royal Family?"

"No, Hermione I told you already that I know nothing."

"You haven't heard of Esydra or a king or anything?" She continued.

Ron dropped the cards in his hands and turned to look at his friend. "No," he said flatly. "If you and Harry don't know anything about it than why would I?"

"Because unlike Harry and I, you grew up in a magical household listening to magical legends and fairy tales," she said, "There has to be something you know!"

This time Ron stood up and turned to face his friend. "Hermione, NO!" he said firmly. "I haven't heard any of those stories in about 15 years. I can't recall anything. I don't know anything. If I did I would have told you already."

Hermione slumped her shoulders and sighed, "Very well." She reached for another book from the book shelf.

"Hermione are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hermione said solemnly.

Ron took another step towards and brought his hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't seem okay," he said honestly.

"I'm just frustrated that's all," she said. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

Hermione clutched the book tightly to her chest. "Yes," she said quietly. "I think I am going to take this to read in my bedroom and maybe take a nap."

Ron smiled lightly. "Okay I will wake you when dinner is ready." he told her.

Hermione walked passed her friend and just as she was walking out she mumbled, "No its okay don't bother."

Ron stood watching the open doorway that his friend had just brushed through feeling confused. He took a seat on the small bench and contemplated for a moment. He remembered back in school he had a small crush on Hermione but that faded quickly after graduation. He even had two girlfriends since he left Hogwarts. The last one broke up with him not long before he was shipped off to this safe house. But in the half a dozen months that he had lived here he had started to notice the butterflies that would grow in his stomach whenever Hermione was near. He wasn't sure why but he was extra aware of her presence and the scent of her shampoo when she was close. He was starting to feel like he did when he was back in school, and that scared him.


End file.
